She Kissed Him
by queenconniebee
Summary: Co-written with Bethy1416. With Connie wandering down a familiar yet dangerous path to self-destruction, Jacob struggles to protect her from her own demons. But perhaps with a little guidance from Charlie, and the realisation that accepting help is far from a sign of weakness, Connie can find it within herself to reach out and seek the support needed to conquer her internal battle?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Neither author claims to own Casualty or any of its plots/characters.**

* * *

"Right, I need Connie in here, now." Dylan looked up briefly from the patient across to where Jacob and Robyn stood, attaching lines and immobilising limbs.

"She's upstairs-"

"No, no no no I don't care. We're two consultants down, I need her in here now or this patient's care is severely compromised."

Robyn looked desperately at Jacob, not wanting to be the one to bring Connie downstairs from a meeting with the Board and Hanssen. Jacob nodded, quickly removing his gloves and jogging from resus and up the stairs to the meeting rooms, dodging through other doctors and patients that blocked his way through reception and the waiting area. The meeting she was in, he had been told, was being chaired to discuss the future of the ED under her direction and the changes that needed to be made in order to ensure the safety of both patients and staff in light of recent events. He had barely seen her since the early hours of that morning, and he highly doubted that she had stopped, eaten, or talked about anything that did not involve emergency medicine since then.

"Come in." He had knocked loudly, and did not need to be told twice.

"Mrs Beauchamp is needed downstairs."

"Can't it wait?" Hanssen eyed him disdainfully, his eyebrows raised, his expression mirrored by several others who sat around the long table in the centre of the room. Connie however, was already out of her seat.

"It's an emergency department, Henrik. I think you'll find therefore that in fact you will be the one waiting." She then followed Jacob from the room, her heels clicking sharply as she tried to keep up with his pace. "Jacob, what is going on-"

"It's chaos down there, Con-"

"They're going to have my head if I don't-"

"We need you in resus, they can have your head later."

She stole a quick glance to the side of her, catching his eye as she ran down the final few steps and into the pandemonium of her department. She raised her eyebrow at his remark, but her attention was quickly diverted by the scene she was witnessing through the panelling of the glass doors she was approaching.

As she pushed through them the rush of staff and machines whirring sent a familiar shot of adrenaline up her spine. This is what she does. She saves lives, makes those unsavable more comfortable, she isn't in this job for the fancy title or the snobbish board meetings, although her vocative of Clinical Lead does provide a useful advantage in some situations.

"Connie!" Dylan beckoned upon noticing her arrival. He signalled to her as he stood beside a bed, a crowd of nurses busying themselves around him. She hurried over to him, asking what they've got, pausing when hearing his response.

"This is Maria, eight, parents brought her in when she had an asthma attack this morning. She's been in the waiting room an hour," he gave a pointed look at her. She didn't see blame in his gaze, but knowing. He knew this would anger her and knew that this error on the system's part could land them in a heap of paperwork over why patients had deteriorated when presenting with seemingly manageable symptoms. Connie took a pair of latex gloves from a nurse and pushed through the swarm of personnel to reach the small figure lying on the bed.

"You've seen this rash?" she pointed out, running a finger over the girl's bare shoulder. He nodded, and again they shared a glance. "Maria, I'm Connie," she cooed. "I'm going to make you all better. Can you tell me where it hurts?"

Maria squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them slightly to look at Connie. The girl's lying on her side, her legs bent so that her heels nearly touch her bottom. Other than the odd loll of her head, she seemed to barely have the energy to move. She murmured something and Connie leant closer to try and understand, but failed.

"Can you say that again, Maria? I can't hear you very well."

"Head."

"You have a headache? Okay, and what about your tummy?" she asked, gently placing her hand on the small swell of the child's stomach. "Do you feel sick?"

"Sometimes."

"What about now?" She received a shake of the head. "Okay, let's get her on oxygen," she instructed the trained staff around her, then stepped to the end of the bed to meet Dylan. "This looks like a case of meningitis."

"My thoughts exactly. She makes a fuss if we go to move her, she's got a rash, evidently sensitive to light, short of breath, she tells you she's got a headache. It all adds up, almost too well."

"We need to start her on antibiotics as soon as bloods are taken, in fact let's do a spinal tap as well. Make sure labs know this case takes priority." She turned to watch the small figure on the bed, the only sign of life being the soft up and down of her chest and shoulders as she breathed. A nurse carefully slipped an oxygen mask onto Maria's face and Connie couldn't help but take a deep breath, trying to control her emotions and mothering instincts, as the plastic covered most of her pale cheeks.

"Dylan," Connie called to him. "Can you look for Kernig's sign, get Jacob to do bloods, I'll get onto the lab and warn them."

With that, she stalked out of resus.

"Mrs Beauchamp?"

"No, I'm busy-"

"Mrs Beauchamp, sorry, you're wanted upstairs!" Noel called from the reception desk as she left resus, holding the phone out to her. She looked around her, at the hoards of people and she growled in frustration. She couldn't go back up, if Maria turned for the worse or meningitis was confirmed, she needed to be on hand.

"Hanssen?" She raised her voice but stayed where she was, able to see Noel nod from a practicsed distance. She groaned again, shaking her hair from her face and placing her hands on her hips. "I need to see the lab. I'll be back in five minutes, if he starts grumbling just put the phone down."

Noel's eyes widened at her instruction, but he didn't dare to question her. He nodded again in affirmation, watching as she moved quickly through the crowds to the lift.

Once she reached the lab floor, and talked with the appropriate doctors to manage Maria's results, she went back down to the department to see Noel still holding the phone, glancing to the clock repeatedly.

"Give it here." She motioned for him to pass the phone, and then promptly placed it face down on the desk before clicking away quickly back to resus.

"Connie, go back. She'll be okay for a while, it isn't worth you getting flack from them up there." Jacob pushed through the doors to stand next to her, holding one of them to allow a different patient to be wheeled out.

"I can't Jacob, if her results come back-"

"I'll get you."

She raised an eyebrow, knowing that once she was up there it was very likely she would be under strict conditions to see the meeting through.

"If you don't-"

"Not going to happen." He squeezed her fingers in his gently, a gesture so small that any passers-by would have missed it. He knew how important treating children was to her, how important it was to get it right.


	2. Chapter 2

Her phone was resting on her thigh under the table when it vibrated, causing her hand to dart forward to catch it before it slipped to the floor. Hanssen cast his gaze to her, unimpressed, but she sent her own challenging glare back and proceeded to check the message that had come through.

 _Appears to be bacterial meningitis. We need you to sign for her before she's admitted to the children's ward x_

Jacob. Telling her the worst. But being pedantic she typed out a response between her own verbal interjection into the meeting being held around her.

 _Appears? Where's the proof? The lab?_

Her phone buzzed just several seconds later, receiving more unwante attention from the tyrants and bosses in the room.

 _Give them a chance Con. The tests we'very carried oiut are showing the worst, it's not looking great._

She glanced from face to face around the conference table, hoping to catch someone's attention in order to excuse herself but the authoritative tones and use of words unnecessarily long pin her anxiously to her seat.

 _I'll give them a chance when a girl's life isn't on the line._

Is all she replied, her impatience and agitation making her finger nearly jab through the screen of her mobile. When there was no sign of a pause in the excruciating monologue of a man whose position was even above that of Guy Self, she rose from her chair, pointing a finger in the air to interject.

"I'm terribly sorry, I need to go. I've got a severe case of meningitis downstairs that needs my attention, but please, carry on," she urged. Please carry on until you finish whilst I'm gone, she thought. Various protests were hurled at her but she strutted out, the comments bouncing off her back as she exited.

She heard the beeping, the metallic sound of the bedframe as strong arms pumped above a tiny chest. Then she heard shouts, shouts to intubate, shouts for drugs, for oxygen. She felt suddenly cold, at the pit of her stomach as well as in her skin. Her breath hitched and she ran the short distance from the bottom of the stairs to resus, her hands pushing the doors violently before she stopped to stand in front of the bed.

She saw him glance up momentarily, just for a couple of seconds. He saw her eyes fixed on the bed, wide and full of horror. He tore his gaze from her, focusing on the girl in front of him, pushing aside as best he could the image of Connie's face as she watched him.

"What..." It was all she could choke out, the rest of the sentence was lost to her and to the people around her in the room.

"She was burning up but we still have nothing confirmed from the lab, and her airway is constricted-" Cal broke off as Connie moved to slip the little girl's gown from her shoulder, seeing a blur of mottled, red skin, raised and inflamed under her touch. She raised her head, inches from Jacob's, the sounds and movements of the bed disorientating her to a point where she moved her hand from Maria to grip the shaking frame. Her knuckles whitened, and she let out a shaky breath as she turned her head to see the monitors.

"Come on." She whispered, looking back down at the girl below her. "Please, come on sweetheart."

Jacob glanced upwards, meeting her eyes directly for the first time since she had come in.

Her talent and experience in cardiothoracics meant she knew, all too well, the strains of meningitis, particularly bacterial, on the heart. She'd not seen such a fatal case for nearly twenty years. It was in her first days that reality, the brutality and harshness of it, had hit her square in the face. She'd lost a child back then to the cruel grasps of the sickness. It had felt as though a blade had punctured every possible limb and organ in her body when she'd looked down at the lifeless, tiny body on the bed. The flatline piercing her brain, her gaze fallen on the child's closed eyes. She remembered the moment she'd turned to leave, the air in the hospital too heavy to shift through her respiratory system, her eyes had landed on those of the child's parents. That was when she realised the truly ruthless, vicious, barbarous ways of the universe.

She now watched the unfluttering eyelashes of Maria. The bed still, the room still, Maria still.

Connie suddenly whipped her head toward the silenced electrocardiogram beside the bed, a nurse stood with the plug in her hand. She was about to protest, to tell the nurse to reconnect the monitor, but a hand settled on her shoulder and a defeated sigh escaped her lips.

"Are we all agreed?" Cal asked.

A rapid unison of nods, Connie glancing at Jacob as he did so, then Cal declared the feared words.

"Time of death…" The doors swung shut before the sentence was completed as Connie headed to the exit, the air, thick as honey, stuck in her throat once again.


	3. Chapter 3

She walked quickly, purposefully through reception and up the stairs to the wards. She didn't stop to acknowledge anyone, people moved aside for her and she kept on walking, along familiar corridors before turning into another stairwell. Bodies dressed in grey hoodies, blue and berry coloured scrubs moved past her, some paused momentarily after she had passed them as if to stop her or or enquire, others simply carried on. Most of the doctors up here didn't know of her, it was only the long standing consultants in the hospital and perhaps the juniors on the topmost ward who would know of her, having learned from those she herself had mentored.

When she reached the window a few floors further up, the one which overlooked the car park and peace garden, she paused. She was breathless; she didn't feel as though she had drawn any air to her lungs since she had left resus. A shuddering gasp escaped her as she gripped the hand rail with whitened knuckles, her entire body cold. She looked down at the chaos on the ground beneath her, at the ambulances that rolled out from the front of the building, and the tiny people that milled around the entrance. She couldn't hear them, but if she could then she knew it would be enough to make her run. She couldn't bear it.

"Connie?"

"Oh, not now." She muttered, keeping her eyes lowered and her forearms resting on the edge of the handrail, her fingers laced together tightly in a cage.

"Why the hell are you up here?"

"Succinct as ever, Jac." She turned her head slightly to acknowledge the woman who had now come to stand next to her.

"You must be pretty busy down on the ground."

"Busy isn't the word."

At this, Jac raised an eyebrow.

"It's vile."

There was a momentary pause, and Jac came to settle herself against the back of the handrail, next to Connie. She folded her arms and studied the other woman sideways, half expecting an explanation but realising after a time that she wasn't inclined to give one. She noticed how drawn in and distant she was, completely unlike her usual self. She should be downstairs running her department with utmost efficiency, not up here, hiding.

"Connie, what's happened?"

Again, Connie turned to look at Jac sideways, but she shook her head.

"Connie..." Jac moved closer, noticing how a tear had slipped down the other woman's cheek, no longer hidden by the curls of hair that framed her face.

"Don't." She pulled away from the handrail, and made to move from the window. She stopped, frozen when she felt a hand turn her shoulder back.

"If you won't talk to me, talk to him?" Jac spoke quietly, tilting her head to look directly at the clinical lead, whose eyes widened before settling firmly on the door behind Jac.

"I don't need to talk to Jacob."

"Connie, it's okay-"

"No, no it isn't okay." She shrugged Jac's hand from her shoulder and turned away, heading quickly back down the stairs.

She wasn't sure what had pulled her to work her way up the floors of the hospital in the first place. Perhaps the need to not feel small and inferior in the world. The complete lack of control she'd just had over the situation in resus had left her feeling helpless and, yes, slightly incapable. So looking down on the people below, taking an almost god-like stance above them all, was her mind's way of reassuring itself. But she didn't feel too reassured. And now she was one of the tiny creatures on the ground, as she sat outside the ED, taking in the humid air from her position on a bench. With her fingers clumsily clasping her stethoscope as she leaned on her knees she became aware of someone approaching from the direction of the main entrance. She lowered her head more, her face now hidden behind a cascade of chestnut locks, mentally composing herself before brushing her hair away and sitting up.

"Anyone sitting here?" Charlie asked as he came to a stop beside her. She cast him a look that warned him off any further pleasantries. He shrugged, with his hands shoved in his pockets, and sat next to her on the bench. "It's a tough one."

"An unfair one," she corected.

He nodded in acknowledgement and understanding. "There was nothing you could have done."

"That's what people say to those who could have done more."

"What would you like me to say? That you should have ignored Hanssen's steely glare and threatening tones?"

"That's what I should have done."

"No, Connie. You had to prioritise the department. Besides, you're not the only qualified doctor, you know? Your team did what they could and I don't think you being there would have changed anything."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps that little girl could still be alive. We'll never know."

He sighed beside her. It was like talking to a steel barricade sometimes; unrelenting and stubborn.

"Maybe you should try talking to Jacob?"

Now it was her turn to sigh. What was it with everyone's fascination with the charming Staff Nurse?

"Why?"

"Because that's what relationships are for Connie. And perhaps he could tell you his experience of it. Maybe you'll believe him when he says that Cal did just as good of a job as you would have."

There was a pang of hurt with that comparison, but then she realised that there was a certain level of truth in it. They'd reached a diagnosis for Maria, they were both on the same page and knew the risks and treatment. They'd have both been waiting for the lab results no matter who had been around and until they'd received those they could only administer a preliminary course of medication. Cal knew all that. So did she. Where was the difference at that stage of the situation? Anything further developments could have had an impact, but all plans had been cut far too short before Connie being around would have mattered.

"She shouldn't have been waiting for so long, Charlie. My department failed her." And with that, she stood up and walked back inside, the last three words she couldn't quite bring herself to say reverberating around her head. Charlie sat still, watching as she entered the ED, left with enough of an insight to know that she wasn't going to let this go, even if it were actually able to leave her conscience.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days, she was consumed entirely with the department, and her behaviour was becoming increasingly difficult to accommodate. Her once acerbic wit was now a quiet harshness, her thin wire of patience was now simply a thread, and she was near impossible to reason with. Even when off shift, she would return home in the evening, refusing to eat, choosing instead to pore over files and notes in preparation for the biweekly morbidity and mortality meeting.

He was at a loss as to what he could do to help her. She didn't want his input, she had barely spoken to him or anyone for that matter ever since Maria had died. They had driven home tonight, as they had the last few nights, in a near silence, and the evening passed in the way most had done recently, until he forced himself to disturb her, deciding he would face the consequences if it meant she would put the papers down for even half an hour. He leant over the table, and swept the stack of files towards him, before reaching back over to gently take the papers that hung loosely in her hands, in disbelief at his interruption.

"What are you doing?"

He said nothing, but tidied the files neatly and stacked the papers on top, before placing them to the back of the table. They now sat opposite each other, with only the bare oak of the table between them.

"Jacob, I need-"

"No. Please Con, let me make you something to eat, and then go back to it tomorrow."

"I don't want-"

"Please."

"I'm not hungry."

"Please don't do this."

He looked at her then, and she sighed. He wasn't going to give her the papers back. She gave a small nod, before easing herself from the table and walking to the toaster. He followed, taking the bread from the cupboard and coming to stand behind her as she switched on the plug.

"Jacob, I-"

"Ssh." He wrapped his arms around her, turning her around so that he could see her face. He hadn't held her like this in days, and it did bring some comfort to her too. She rose up on her toes to press her lips to his gently, her hands reaching to press against his chest. He couldn't deny the sense of relief that came over him in that moment, and as he deepened the kiss she responded as she always did, the two of them becoming oblivious to the bread in the toaster. His fingers slipped from her waist just to the hem of her top, the material lifting slightly as he touched the soft skin of her stomach.

"Not tonight." She whispered softly, her gaze dipping and her hands gently pulling his away. She lowered her head and turned away from him slightly before he caught her fingers, noticing how she immediately tensed and looked up at him. He breathed in sharply, in shock, as he recognised a slight flicker of fear in her eyes, before they turned hard and dark. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her back and simply held her to him, his body relaxed and comforting, in complete contrast to his thoughts. Charlie had come to find him earlier, they had talked in the staffroom for some time, and looking down at the woman who stood in his arms, he couldn't help but replay the conversation.

"It's getting like last time, Jacob."

"Last time?"

"She... She changed after Jeff died."

"What do you..."

"And then she lost Grace. It was like something had snapped, except people only saw her becoming cold and hard. She never seemed to leave, and nothing was ever good enough. I think... I think she took out the anger she felt towards herself on everything else surrounding her. Like now."

"Didn't anybody say anything? Did anybody try to help her?"

"She was exhausted, Jacob. I think she was too exhausted from her own fright and weakness to tolerate it in anybody else. Nobody dared. She was driving this place into the ground, I did try..."

"Charlie..."

"Jacob, you weren't here."

He closed his eyes, and gently stroked Connie's hair before feeling her press against his chest and move back away from him. She switched the plug off the toaster, the bread inside now blackened, and he watched as she settled back at the table and pulled the papers back towards her, and resumed her earlier position. As he saw her now, Charlie's last words came back to him.

"Believe me, you're one of the best things that happened to her. You know she's not as strong as she makes out to be, yet you never let her know that she's not fooling you. But now, Jacob, the clues are there as much as she tries to give nothing away. She's getting bad again."

He wanted to help her, desperately. But how could he help someone who didn't want to be helped? He flicked the switch back on for the toaster after removing the charred pieces of toast, replacing them with new slices of bread and setting them to warm through. He contemplated salvaging the blackened remains but decided against it and threw them out.

He didn't look at Connie, not even from the corner of his eye. Something about this entire situation stirred up a hot slither of anger in him, but he couldn't quite place the reason for it. When the toast popped up he considered asking her what she wanted on it but couldn't get the words to form on his tongue, so he settled for butter. Margarine, actually. He put the plate on the table and slid it in front of her, stood lingering for a moment, but she said nothing, just gave a subtle nod in acknowledgment. So he took a slice for himself and left her to it.

He didn't wait around much after that before he went to bed, sliding himself beneath the plush duvet, the space beside him empty. If he listened hard enough he could hear the shuffle of papers every now and again or the tapping of her fingers on the laptop, and he knew then that if he shut his eyes, that would be it until morning.

When he awoke, the bright, fresh light of dawn pooling beneath the curtains, he pushed his hand across the mattress beneath the blanket, only to be met with cold sheets. He'd been right, there would have been no point in him waiting up. Reluctantly he shuffled to lean on his elbows, glancing around the room to see that it was exactly as it had been when he'd clambered into bed the night before. No disruptions. Throwing the covers aside, he swung his legs out of bed and padded across the landing to the stairs. The house was silent, just the sweet chirp of the dawn chorus making it through the walls of the Beauchamp residence. Plodding down the stairs and into the living room he was surprised to find Connie's figure prostrated on the sofa, a file with it's contents splayed on the floor next to her. He watched her for a moment, sleeping soundly, looking no different to how she'd slumbered on nights when she was far more contented. He wished that he could wake her up and she'd be back to how she had been just a mere several days ago. But alas, he knew that wouldn't be the case. So he left her sleeping and went to the kitchen, passing her desk on the way and collecting the plate he'd placed before her yesterday evening. A slice of toast minus three mouthfuls remaining.


	5. Chapter 5

"Charlie, do you have a minute?" Jacob walked quickly to catch up with the other nurse, both due now to take a break after a hectic few hours in cubicles. Connie had left before him that morning, blatantly refusing his offer to drive them both in together, and since then he had only seen glimpses of her around the department.

"I have more than a few. Come on, we'll go to the office, it'll be quieter." He nodded in the direction of the staffroom before signalling for Jacob to follow him down the corridor. Once the door of the office was shut, they sat down, Jacob shifting slightly so as to clasp his hands in front of him on the desk, his face drawn.

"I've been thinking about what you said."

Charlie didn't reply, but waited for Jacob to continue, sensing that there was more he wanted to say.

"Charlie, she's currently running on three mouthfuls of toast, from last night. She's barely slept since that little girl died, and..." He trailed off, the next words wavering on his lips, as he was uncertain as to whether this was as important, as worrying as it seemed to be. He closed his eyes momentarily, the image of her in his arms last night reappearing, and he exhaled deeply before deciding to continue. "She'll barely let me touch her."

"In what sense?"

"Come on, Charlie. That sense, and just generally. You know what Connie's like, of course I understand that right now she's upset and it may not be she wants. I get that, I do. What worries me is just how unlike her it is." She'd been upset before, and stressed, but she'd even admitted that being with him had made those things easier to deal with.

"She will be okay, Jacob. She just needs time."

"She should be on minors."

"What?"

"Charlie, have you seen her today? She's knackered. Sooner or later, something is going to go wrong and it will affect a patient, and I am not going to let her do that to herself!" He stood up, his hand reaching for the door handle.

"The M and M is on Friday?" Charlie asked, watching as Jacob tried to control the anger that began to show through his usually more composed self.

Jacob nodded, blowing out a long breath before laving the room, heading straight to where he knew she was.

...

"Connie, stop."

The doors to resus opened, and his interruption caused her head to whip around suddenly, although her hands stayed just above the tray, inside which he knew lay a variety of scalpels and metal instruments.

"Excuse me?"

"You're shaking." He whispered, and it was more of an observation than something he had meant for her to hear.

She ignored him, and instead picked up a scalpel from the tray, a light tremor running through her fingers as she did so. It didn't go unnoticed, several members of staff looked over at Jacob who stood just past the door.

"Con, please..."

"What is it you want to say, Jacob?" She looked up, her eyes locking onto his, challenging him. Daring him to continue.

"I'm not going to do that here, you know I won't-"

"Oh no, please do enlighten me. Actually, I think we all want to know why you, Staff Nurse Masters, feel that it is within your remit to prohibit your Lead Emergency Consultant and Clinical Lead from performing this emergency clinical procedure."

He matched her steely glare but she broke it off by turning back to the patient when realising she wasn't going to get a verbal response.

"Apron," he demanded to a nearby nurse who was watching over the shoulders of those around the bed. She furrowed her eyebrows then thrust one in front of him, obviously unimpressed by his blunt and impolite command. When noticing him pulling on a pair of latex gloves Connie's face flashed with white hot fury.

"What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed, her voice raising. He continued to watch her, unrelenting and stubborn can be a two way game, he thought.

"I'm scrubbing in," he stated, his tone remaining calm.

"No, you are not." She shot daggers at him, her eyes and the gripped scalpel in her hands warning him off his confrontation. Upon seeing his unwavering intentions as he began striding toward the crowd of personnel, repositioning some of the fingers of his gloves, she stepped out from behind the bed to obstruct his path. "I'm asking you to leave," she informed him through her clenched jaw.

"I'm not leaving." Jacob placed his hands on his hips, planting his feet into the ground, challenging her gaze. He knew he was going beyond the line, way beyond any safety net.

"You are putting a patient's life at risk- in fact, you know what? I am not going to allow you to get in the way of saving a life. Do what you want, but there will be consequences and you better hope you are far from here once I've completed this surgery."

She returned to her spot and gave a nod of readiness to everyone, casting one final glance at him as he watched her proceed. However, it wasn't that easy for the others in the room, who continued to peer over at him, flicking their gaze between him, Connie and the patient.

A few minutes passed before he slowly wandered nearer, positioning himself a couple of feet away from her so that he could watch the surgery over her shoulder. It was only when she caught an assistant distracted by something behind her did she briefly turn, but said nothing and continued her operation.

Whilst the surgery Connie had carried out was vital, it was over within twenty minutes and she handed the suturing kit to Ethan, who had safely remained silent through the drama of the half hour. She removed her gloves and left them balled up on a tray as she reached to untie her protective apron.

"Out," she hissed as she walked past him, bringing the apron over her head and throwing it in the bin on her way to the door. Jacob followed, doing the same with his protective wear, and prepared for an onslaught of wrath.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?!" She declared, barely even through the door and making her way towards the nurses' station. "If you were trying to get my attention after last night, then, well done, you've got it."

"What?"

"I didn't want sex so you thought you'd make a fool of me? Put a patient's life at risk!"

He paused, causing her to turn around and face him for the first time since she'd stepped in front of him before the operation.

"What do you take me for?" He asked, hurt ebbing into his voice along with some of his pent up frustration. "I'm not that shallow and narcissistic!"

For a brief moment he's sure he can see surprise, even confusion on her face. But then it's gone, replaced with an icy façade.

"You had no right, no right, barging into my surgery like that." Her finger was jabbing the air in front of him - punctuating each syllable - scolding him and evidently releasing some of her adrenaline infused energy. "I don't know what you were trying to achieve or prove but there is no way-"

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Charlie interrupted, causing them both to turn to him in surprise. The atmosphere suddenly seemed lulled now that neither of them were shouting, their dispute evidently attracting some attention. Connie brought the back of her hand to her lips, trying to calm herself and likely hide any embarrassment, as Jacob bowed his head slightly. "Take this some place else. Go to the office, use mine if you have to! But for goodness sake, don't do it here."

Connie took her hand down from her mouth and finally turned back to them both, straightening her blouse, then walked away from them, and the offices, in defiance.

"Impossible," Jacob muttered to Charlie, throwing his hands up in despair and heading in the opposite direction, leaving Charlie stood there with his mouth drawn into a thin, unamused line.

"Back to work, everyone."

Various members of the team remained where they were, shocked at the outburst they had just witnessed. Of course, they had seen staff confrontation in the department before, but not in this way, not for a long time. Charlie sighed, before deciding that perhaps the best way to restore some sort of order would be to address the situation directly.

"How much of that was heard?" He looked pointedly at Cal, who raised an eyebrow before raising his hand to the back of his neck, avoiding Charlie's eye. "Guys, come on. Some of you know, she's got a difficult meeting this Friday. She's stressed, she needs your support now, not pointing fingers."

"Jacob was right though, Charlie. Her hands were shaking." Robyn spoke quietly, just as other nurses began to move away from the group that had gathered outside resus. Charlie didn't reply, his expression tightening as he glanced back down the corridor Connie had just walked down.

...

An hour or so later, her office door opened and closed; she didn't need to look up to know that he was standing there.

"Go away."

He didn't respond straightaway, but leant back against the door and watched her as she began to tap away at her keyboard with less vigour, evidently distracted by his presence in the room. He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily before speaking. "Look, there's two days left before the M and M, why don't we go home now and work through some of it together?"

"No."

"Connie, please. Come on. What happened in resus did not happen because of last night. Yes, it got to me, but not for the reasons you seem to think! I would never... It worried me because combined with everything else-"

"Oh Jacob, just get out-"

"Connie, I have to say this. Please." She looked at him then, properly, for the first time since he had entered the office. "I will never be disappointed by something like that, ever. You will never disappoint me, you never could. If you don't want to, I don't want to, I would never and will never... take anything out on you, simply because..." He struggled through the words, unable to quite believe he was having to do this. Part of him believed that she had said it in anger but nevertheless, this was something he never wanted her to think about again. "You're worrying me because I thought you would be talking to me by now. You would let me hold you, look out for you. Maybe not right away. But now, when things are evidently still not okay, I thought you would be talking to me about them."

"You felt the need to come and question my professional ability?"

He looked at her, aghast.

"I felt the need to come and take you out of a compromising situation."

"What?"

"Your hands, Con. You know as well as I do-"

"There is nothing wrong with my hands!"

"You were shaking, and I wasn't the only one who noticed." He stepped forward now, moving closer to her desk. He took in her appearance then, how hard and dark her eyes were, beautiful but lacking their brightness. How her hair curled somewhat lifelessly at her shoulders, yet it still looked so soft, and put together. She was beautiful even when she was beginning to break.

"How dare you!"

"How dare _I_? _I_ love you. God, I love you so much and I am not going to let you shut yourself away like this!" His voice rose, and in his anger he missed her flinch as he placed a hand down angrily on the surface of the desk.

"Jacob, stop..."

"Why can't you talk to me about this? Any of this?"

"Please, Jacob..." Her forehead began to prickle, and as she watched him, his words beginning to lose meaning due to her exhaustion as well as the intensity of his frustration. She felt her fingers instinctively grip the edge of her desk a little more in an attempt to hold onto current time; her focus; her emotions.

"No, you stop shutting me out! If this carries on, it's going to get out of control."

"Stop..." She barely managed the word as a whisper, her throat now constricted, and she dropped her head as she felt the tears begin to slip down her cheeks.

"So, what is your plan then Con? For it to get like before? You're going to scare the shit out of everyone who could possibly want to help you, and to prove what?" He stopped when she rose from her chair and moved swiftly past him, her hands pressed to her cheeks, a short gasp escaping her just as she turned out of the door.


	7. Chapter 7

He tried, that's what comforted him as he got into his car and drove home, drove away from Connie. In his frustration he was just glad that she had refused his offer to drive them in together this morning. It meant his getaway was quicker and less confrontational. He knew a true gentleman wouldn't walk away from something like this, but right now he couldn't care less how gentlemanly he was. He'd tried the patient approach, to no avail; he'd tried the gentle, prodding approach, to no avail; he'd tried the to-the-point approach, to no avail. What approach was there left?

Perhaps the silent treatment. A taste of her own medicine.

Whilst this might have been decided on in rebellion and hurt, he still couldn't help but hope that it would work.

She wasn't sure why she'd expected him to come running after her, she'd hardly been appreciative of his presence recently. She'd been outside the main ED doors, stood tucked into a nook of the building's architecture, when he'd walked past. His uniform was gone, replaced with casual jeans and a t-shirt, his satchel slung over his shoulder and car keys in hand. She'd needed air and privacy after their argument, where better than outside the ED where people were too busy with their own lives to notice?

She'd slipped back inside not long after and returned to her office to complete what she'd been doing prior to his interruption earlier. Her mind was frantic for a bit, completely distracting her from her computer screen. Why did she have this awful habit of pushing people away? Of dwelling on the past? Before long she was irritably throwing her stuff into her bag and leaving, deciding a glass of wine at home may help her concentrate a little better. As she was driving she wondered whether Jacob would be there. If he was, then her plan of concentrating would be pre-empted until after, no doubt, another argument. Or perhaps they'd ignore each other. She's not sure which she'd dislike the most. It wasn't as if she enjoyed hurting him or purposefully set out to quarrel with him.

He wasn't there, at least not when she turned up. She went in, poured a generous glass of wine, and settled in behind her desk whilst powering up the laptop. She looked at her phone and keys in front of her on the table. Their arguments made her doubt their future. Was he currently drinking? Meeting other women; women who would no doubt be less trouble than she was?

She wanted to check he was okay but there was a stubborn flare inside of her that kept her fingers from reaching out to call him. How long that flare would last before her anxieties extinguished it, she didn't know.

...

Half an hour. Half an hour later, and her mind could not focus on anything other than him. Something felt trapped in her chest, she couldn't decide whether she resented him, despite knowing it was unfair for her to do so, or whether she felt guilty for having evidently pushed him several steps too far. For Jacob to react like this, not come home... She closed her thoughts to the edging anxiety and upset, closed the lid of her laptop and picked up her car keys, stepping out of the room to then take a last look back at her desk. She had two days. Maybe taking the work with her would give her a reasoned objective, a different environment would take her mind from Jacob, and the work would get done. She quickly gathered the papers into her bag, switched off the light and closed the door, before walking to the hall and stepping into her shoes. She could stay, and wait. Face him, and sort it all out, even apologise. She closed her eyes, remembering how he had looked at her and shouted at her in the office, and how he had walked out of the department straight after the shift. Then how he hadn't come back home. And with that, she opened the front door and went to her car, dropping her bag onto the passenger seat, talking one last glance back at the house before driving away.

She drove for perhaps forty minutes, to a side of the city she hadn't visited for months now. Once every she had parked, she sat still for a moment, before pulling her phone from her bag.

Nothing.

She got out of the car, locked it, and walked down a street that was familiar to her, despite not knowing it's name. There was a small bar a few establishments down from where she had left the car, one where she knew no one, and no one knew her. She walked straight through, asked for a white wine and paid, before taking it to settle in a small, private booth to the right side of the room. It was relatively quiet, being a Wednesday night, and she spread the papers out in front of her, her phone lying just to the side of her glass. It was perhaps twenty minutes before she raised her head again, the sudden rising sound of laughter interrupting her. She looked across to the entrance as a small group of men arrived, before looking back down to the papers, her gaze skirting just over the empty black screen of her phone. As she made notes and crossed figures out, the chatter and laughter from the bar grew as more people entered, predominantly couples who she expected were making the most of the city's quieter, less raucous evenings. Like she and Jacob often did.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead before placing down her pen and rising from her seat, deciding she would opt for another drink. She didn't want to go home, she didn't want to drive. She couldn't drive, not now. The realisation of this became suddenly a lot clearer as she waited for her second glass. Up until now, the practicalities of getting home had not even crossed her mind. She couldn't leave the car, and she didn't want him to come and find her. Or did she? She didn't know.

As she waited by the bar, her back turned to the group she had seen enter earlier, she was being watched. He had noticed her when he came in, when she had met his eye for a brief moment before slipping just out of view. He watched her as she took her glass and once again moved away silently, and he was surprised to see that nearly an hour since he arrived and first seen her, she still had no companion. He couldn't help but wonder why a woman like her had been here for an hour, on a quiet night like this, on her own.

Just shy of eleven o'clock, he stood up and gestured for his friends to leave without him, waiting a moment before walking towards where she sat, completely unaware. He didn't want to startle her, but soon realised that she had in fact noted him minutes ago, and had decided to show no reaction. For some reason this made him smile, and he cleared his throat lightly before placing a hand down lightly on the edge of the little table, on top of which laid her scattering of papers.

She looked up, her fingers resting just under the bowl of her glass, her face cast in a slight shadow from the light above them.

She was beautiful.

He watched as she raised an eyebrow, her fingers slipping down the stem of the glass as they moved to pick up the pen that rested the side of it.

"Yes?"

Again, something about her behaviour made him smile. He tried to bite it back, but wasn't entirely sure that he had got away with it.

"Can I get you a drink?" He gestured towards her near empty glass, leaning slightly into the table as he spoke. She didn't look away from him until that moment, her eyes quickly dropping to her phone before flicking back to his. He was extremely attractive, tall, his eyes looking intently to hers as he waited for her response.

"Actually, I was just-"

"Please don't leave on my account."

She lowered her pen back to desk, before leaning back a little and folding her arms.

"What makes you think that?"

"That you're leaving on my account?"

"Mm."

She raised her eyebrow again when he paused, and he sighed before tilting his head and tucking his hands behind his back.

"I don't think you had much intention of leaving before I came over." He eyed the papers on the desk, noting how many seemed to be headed with the recognisable NHS stamp, before looking back to her. "So I'd like it if you would allow me to buy you a drink to while away some time."

Now, it was her turn to pause, before giving a small nod to which he responded with a smile, turning away from her to head to the bar. When he came back, he placed her glass down and sat next to her, watching as she tucked the papers away to the side and placed her phone neatly down on top of them, faced down.

He was so different. He was charming like Jacob, but it was a different kind of charm. He had a similar confidence about him, something that made her feel like she was safe, but he didn't know why she liked that, why that was something she was attracted to. He didn't know her, he didn't know anything about her. Perhaps this was why a moment later, she didn't feel so scared, because this man didn't love her. She hadn't disappointed him. Instead, she had disappointed the one man who had always told her that he loved her. So much so, that it was past eleven o'clock at night, she was miles from and unable to come home, and she couldn't bring herself to ask him to help her. Perhaps that was why, when a moment later this man's hands were in her hair, her fingers pressing to the crevices of his jaw and she was feeling nothing; strangely, she wasn't quite so scared anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

She kissed him. This man, this stranger. She's not sure how they ended up there but she could feel the dampness of his lips, his hands in her hair. It wasn't long before his fingers weren't just dancing through her locks but trailing cautiously over her knee, then up the outside of her thigh. She pulled back. Too stunned for a moment to think or speak.

"I need to leave," she muttered, dabbing her own lips with the back of her hand whilst the other reached for her papers.

"Is that an invitation?"

She paused her movements of sliding the files into her bag. "I'm afraid not." She offered him an almost apologetic smile then gave him a pointed look as she brought her packed bag to her lap. Taking the hint he shuffled to the end of the bench to let her get out of the booth. "Have a good evening," she said, her tone indifferent considering their recent affairs, and exited the bar.

Now what?

She was stranded on the pavement outside; over the limit and a long way from home.

It was late, the roads wouldn't be busy at this hour. She went to her car a short walk away and stopped beside it to search for her keys. Retrieving them from her bag she unlocked it then climbed into the driver's seat and just stared out through the windshield. Should she really be doing this? Maybe she should call Jacob. No, that wasn't an option. What if he had been drinking, or worse, what if he was with another woman? No. No. This was her mess to get out of, so she would do it alone. But alone meant being a danger, being in danger. She wasn't even just over the limit, she'd waved goodbye to that mark when she'd allowed that appealing stranger to buy her a third glass of wine. A large one.

Perhaps she could call a taxi. The cost be damned if it meant getting her safely to her bed. But something inside her grew reluctant with that idea. She couldn't place it. However, that seemed to be her only option. She picked up her phone, cradling it in her hand before realising that she had a final go-to helpline.

"Connie?" He answered after a few rings, a little confused. "Is everything okay?"

It took her a moment to push her pride aside. "It seems I've gotten myself into a bit of a plight."

"What happened? Is it something to do with Jacob?"

"No, Charlie." The unconvinced silence between them resonated and forced her into altering her statement. "I just… Is there any way you could help me?"

"You've not exactly told me what's going on."

"I may have had a drink and have no way to get home."

She didn't miss the quiet, sympathetic sigh on his end. "Oh Connie… Where are you?"

"I'm… in my car. I don't know. I'm outside The…" she leant forward to try to read the sign hanging outside the bar she'd just been in. "The Hamrock?"

"Shamrock?"

"Possibly…"

"If that's the case then it's my side of town. So I'll make a deal with you, okay?"

She nods then reaffirms with a "Yes".

"I will come and pick you up, but you have to stay at mine tonight. Is that a deal? I'll even drop you back off tomorrow to get your car."

It wasn't ideal. She wanted to go home.

"But I haven't got any of my stuff."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went drinking."

He was right, this was her own fault. She made her bed so she must lie in it.

She paused briefly, "Okay."

"Say the words," he prodded.

"Which ones?"

"Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, we have a deal," she agreed.

"Right. I'll see you soon."

She was a little distracted, and of course slightly infused with alcohol, so by the time she went to reply he'd already hung up.

"Thank you," she muttered earnestly into the quiet.

...

He'd arrived just short of twenty minutes later, pulling up alongside her car. He got out as she, too, stepped onto the pavement, having not moved since she'd ended the call with him. She grabbed her bag and walked round the front of her car to meet him as he leant on the bonnet of his, waiting patiently.

"Did I wake you?" she asked worriedly as she approached.

"I'd just finished dinner after being on shift."

She nodded, him noticing the way her shoulders visibly relaxed. They both got into his car and buckled their seatbelts.

"Have you got everything? Locked the car?"

Again, she just nodded, so he pulled off.

About five minutes into the journey Charlie turned to her as she leant her head on her hand against the window.

"Why didn't you call Jacob?" He broached calmly.

"It's complicated."

"Right."

He didn't question her more after that, he just asked if she wanted any food, to which she informed him she didn't want to be any more hassle. So they drove back to his place in quiet. He was focused on the road but could tell the normal steely Connie was anything but that tonight.

When they arrived he opened the door for her and showed her where she'd be sleeping and offered for her to use the shower, which she did. When she returned to the small box room she'd be staying in, a navy hoodie and pair of cotton pyjama bottoms were folded on her bed. She smiled softly. Only Charlie Fairhead would accommodate her like this. Once she'd slipped on the clothes she realised the hoodie was a replica of the one he sometimes wore around the ED.

"Connie?" He knocked on the door.

"Mmm?" She replied, loud enough for him to hear.

He pushed it open slightly, "All decent?"

"Yes, Charlie," she reassured, a sweetness in her tone that she only reserved for him. He entered with one hand behind his back.

"It might not be ideal but I have toothpaste… and a spare toothbrush if you want it?" He brought the toothbrush, still in its packaging, out from behind him.

"Are you sure?"

"Would I offer if I wasn't?" She smiled gratefully and accepted the brush, placing it on her bed. "How would you like a cup of tea?"

"Honestly, don't go out of your way."

"I'm not. I'm having one, I wondered if you'd like one too?"

She nodded and followed him out of the room. As he was making tea she leaned against the kitchen counter, only moving to return the milk to it's spot in the fridge, then they went through to the living room. He went to the armchair facing the television, a variety of newspapers and crosswords spread across the small coffee table beside it, allowing her to sit on the sofa adjacent to him. The only sound between them to begin with were the occasional slurps they had from their mugs.

"I know you might not want to hear this right now," he began, turning his head to look at her. "But whatever's going on in your head, you can't let it come between you and Jacob."


	9. Chapter 9

"It seems it's too late for that," she muttered. Her response surprised him, he was expecting to be shrugged off or ignored.

"But you can fix it."

"And how do you suppose I do that?" She asked, finally meeting his gaze.

"Well, I know for a fact he's one of the best things to come into your life. Don't throw it all away because of your pride." Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Come on, Connie. We both know the reason you called me instead of him tonight was because your pride got in the way."

"I simply thought it best to let him cool down."

"Cool down from what?"

She paused, taking a long drag from her tea, her gaze flicking to his but never lingering for long. "He's angry."

"Because of your argument in the ED?"

"We argued again later in my office."

"You know he's just looking out for you? He's concerned, we all are."

"I don't see why."

"You're not eating, sleeping, stopping; I can't remember the last time I saw you take a break." He waited for her response but didn't get one, so he continued. "You know, Jacob came to me. On more than one occasion in fact. He's… well, I'd say he's frightened. He's tried to help you but nothing he does is getting through. He's not sure what to do for the best anymore."

The defensive side of Connie wanted to bluntly state that she'd not asked Jacob for his help. But something inside her couldn't be so harsh.

"I know he's tried. Do you think I haven't? No matter what we say or do a little girl is dead because of me. Nothing anyone says or does to her parents is going to heal them or bring her back."

"Have you spoken to anyone about this?"

She shook her head, willing the tears to sink away again. "No."

"Would you like to?"

She shrugged. "I don't think it's worth the time."

He sighed and shifted in his chair to face her a little better. "This is obviously troubling you. You've been swathed in hurt and self blame for over a week. You should talk it through with someone."

"I don't need a psychiatrist."

"I didn't say that."

"So you mean Jacob?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Or me. Anyone you like. Just don't keep taking it out on people who are trying so hard to support you. Let them help." She didn't make an effort to respond, being too focused on the thoughts that his words were provoking. "Come here," he soothed, getting up from his chair to sit with her on the sofa. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him so that her head was tucked beneath his chin. "It'll all be fine, I promise you. You just have to let others help. I know what you're like Connie, you'd do everything by yourself if you could. Let Jacob in, let him help you."

"Thank you, Charlie," she whispered.

"It's okay." He squeezed her arm. "Tomorrow you're going to talk to him and things will work out, alright?"

"Alright."

That sat together for a few minutes more, in a companionable silence, before he looked down to notice that she was crying. He had been right earlier, the steely Connie had been well and truly vanquished tonight. Yet also, he saw that the walls were now caving in, not just shaking a little here and there. However, once she realised that he was watching her, she made an instinctive move away from him, curling herself into the cushions on her side of the sofa.

"I'll be fine in a minute." She spoke quietly, partly wanting to disclose what had happened in the bar, but also unwilling to share something that probably could, with time, be forgotten. She hated herself for thinking like this. But the truth was that the two of them had been nameless, somewhat intoxicated... As she thought about it, the tears fell faster, and as she raised a hand to her cheek to brush them away she turned to the man who sat next to her, to see her phone held out in his hand. The screen illuminated as a notification came through, telling her that she had received four missed calls and a text message, all from the same person. She took it from him, retreating back into her curled position as she typed in her pass code and scrolled until the text message came into view.

Let me know that you're safe. I love you.

"You know..." She looked up as Charlie spoke, her hand reaching to place her phone in the pocket of the hoodie she wore. "Tomorrow has technically already started."

"Charlie, I can't."

"Yes, you can." These were perhaps the most forceful words he had spoken to her for a long time. He didn't take this tone with her often, if at all. "There are many things you can do. And you need to start doing them now, Connie."

"You don't-"

"You, listen to me." He paused for a second, noticing how she shut her slightly opened mouth and settled back into the sofa. "Whatever happened tonight, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't important. And don't look at me like that, tonight you are unusually transparent. You panicked, and you made several mistakes. But they're not major. Don't even think about making this into a big deal. Because then, then you will make mistakes you might not be able to come back from."

He watched her sadly as she met his eye, before giving the smallest of nods. He tilted his head slightly, and gestured for her to come and settle back beside him. She moved, her legs still curled up on the sofa as he lightly put an arm around her, her vulnerability and complete submission to her loss of control of her situation feeling foreign to the both of them.

"We've got you. But you need to make the steps too, Connie. You have got to sleep, eat-"

"When I get like this..." She trailed off, biting back words she hadn't known she was going to say. "Charlie, it's nothing major."

"Try not to make it major." He warned her quietly, somewhat relieved to have voiced concerns that had been a long time coming. He watched her again as she sighed, offering no response, simply retreating further into the oversized hoodie. "You'll be alright, you know. You will be."

"Mm." She shut her eyes for a brief moment before moving, edging herself from the sofa and bidding Charlie goodnight , before going through to the little box room.


	10. Chapter 10

She sat on the bed, the duvet wrapped around her frame, her phone pressed to her chin. She was tired. She was past that, but this feeling of internal trepidation was ensuring that she was kept awake. She looked to the door, which she had shut tightly, before closing her eyes and releasing a long breath, one she hadn't quite realised she had been holding. A moment later the phone was pressed to her ear, her other hand covering her mouth, her eyes and throat prickling. The dialling tone barely lasted a few seconds, her eyes opening as she realised the call had gone through, and she could in fact hear him saying her name.

"Jacob." She whispered, the sound of his voice rendering her own to just that. As she pulled her other hand from her mouth, she released a choked sob, one which he heard and immediately responded to. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, and she wanted nothing more than to be held by him. "I'm so sorry, Jacob, I-"

"I love you. I love you so much, and I... I wasn't here, and I should have been. I should have been here." She could hear his voice breaking, and this in turn coaxed more tears to fall and slide down her cheeks. "Connie, where... are you-"

"Charlie's. I'm fine." She spoke, shakily, hearing a single sob of relief from the other end of the line. There was a pause, a pause where she realised that there were words now that he needed to hear, from her. Words that if heard now, she wouldn't regret saying.

"Jacob, I... I'm not fine. I'm not fine, I'm not okay, and I need..." Her throat now felt so numb that she could barely whisper, and the true volume of emotion that had been threatening to spill over for days, not just since their earlier argument, did spill over. Every sob, every tear, every shudder. She allowed him to hear each and every one.

"I need you."

...

They'd not spoken for long, Jacob insisting they both go to sleep so they could battle the next day with fresh, reasonable minds; all the challenges and conversations it would bring. She'd settled down to sleep, her body, by that point, desperate for the rest and had gratefully drifted off quickly.

She awoke a few times in the night. Like many, sleeping in a bed that wasn't her own could result in restlessness. But in the morning it was a knock on the door that roused her from her slumber. It took her a moment to get her bearings after waking up facing a wall that was dissimilar to any in her home.

"Connie?" Charlie called softly through the door before edging it open. She forced herself into a false alertness and watched him as he peered round the corner. "It's early," he reassured, knowing she'd go into panic if she thought she was late. "How are you today?"

He took a step into the room, pushing the door to behind him. He signalled to the bed and she nodded, so he went and perched on the edge of the mattress.

She shuffled to sit up and lean against the headboard. "I've been worse."

"Yes, but you will get through this," he reiterated, ensuring she still remembered his words from last night. There was a pause then she looked up at him, a realisation in her eyes. "I thought you were on shift this afternoon? You don't have to be up yet."

He smiled, "Yes. That's my reason for waking you; Jacob's here. I had to let him in. He's waiting in the hall."

Her eyebrows rose, eyes going wide, before returning her face to neutral. "Why's he here? We're on shift together later."

"May I send him in?"

"Uh, yes, yes," she confirmed, still bewildered. He squeezed her arm before getting off the bed, giving her a reassuring nod, telling her she can do this, and left the room. A few seconds later the door edged open again and Jacob looked in. Seeing her sat there, offering him a slightly wobbly smile, he sighed and entered the room.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice quiet.

"Hello."

He took Charlie's previous position on the bed beside her. "I was worried."

"I'm sorry. I'm fine."

"That's not what you said last night."

"I know, I know…" She hesitantly moved her hand across the duvet to fiddle with the cuff of his jumper on the arm supporting him. "We can talk about it. Just after I've had coffee."

He breathed out a laugh and scooted so he was leaning on the headboard next to her. "I thought I'd come and get you to fetch your car, save Charlie the trip.".

"Thank you." She'd explained the situation to him on the phone last night, skipping the minor detail of her kissing the stranger.

"Next time, you call me. I don't care if we've argued. I mean, of course I'd prefer if there wasn't a next time… but worst case scenario."

She picked up his hand that was on the mattress between them and brought it to her lap, wrapping both of her hands around it and giving it an appreciative squeeze. He then turned toward her and with his free palm nudged her head toward him to place a soft kiss on her temple.

"Are we okay?" She asked.

"Of course, Sweet Cheeks."

She giggled, fulfilling his aim with that endearment. She looked across at him when feeling his gaze on her and they smiled at each other, albeit a snoozy tilt of the lips from her. He was hesitant, she could tell. He didn't want to push things too far. So instead she was the one that pushed the front of her torso against his side and placed a palm on his cheek, tilting his head to face hers. His hand, still in her lap, stroked soothingly along her thigh as she planted her lips on his. She kissed him. It was chaste, sweet, loving. Nothing like the frantic collision she'd experienced last night with the unknown man. It made her almost sick to recall how close she'd dabbled with the wanton actions of her younger self. Maybe with the truths she'd be confessing to, and explaining, over the course of the next couple of weeks she'd also admit to this. She may not be virtuous, but she had a conscience and a heart.


	11. Chapter 11

As he held her, the fingers on that hand lightly tracing her vertebrae, he tried to imagine how she must have been feeling the evening before. How she must be feeling now, despite her seeming improvement in comparison to the previous few days. The way in which she pressed herself to him made his heart, his body, ache. It all ached for her. He had missed her, and it was a more painful missing than had she simply been away. She had been absent last night, but his own frustration had regrettably got the better of him until that had ebbed, and crippling worry had taken its place. But before then, the pain of missing her had been drawn from her emotional absence. The absence of the woman who would smile in secret when a nurse showed their compassion, and when a young doctor's face lit up after having diagnosed a patient and made a difference. The woman who would always blush slightly when she was complimented, no matter how hard she attempted to remain indifferent. The absence of the woman with whom he had fallen in love with, with whom had now become a being he was arguably more in love with, for with every crack and scar he could not help but fall more deeply in love with her.

"Can I come in?"

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap at the door, and by her movements as she quickly leant back and pulled away from him. As the door opened, he used the arm still pressed to her back, now somewhat uncomfortably sandwiched between her and the headboard, in order to push her back forwards. He guided her back to his side so that she remained nestled against him, his arm wrapped in a fierce display of protection around her, his lips pressed to her hair. The door opened, Charlie's head just emerging and baring a poorly concealed grin as his eyes fell onto the couple.

"Sorry, I'll er... well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I head back to bed for a bit."

"Charlie, thank you... For everything." Connie looked up to meet the older man's eyes, the fuller meaning of her words passing between them in a short glance.

"You don't need to thank me. Right, I expect the milk to be used, and the bread or cereal. I'll see you both on shift later."

"Yes, boss." Jacob spoke, having noticed Connie tense within his arms. Charlie gave one last smile before closing the door, after which Jacob cuddled Connie closer to him, silently urging her to relax again. It then occurred to him that they would need to leave soon, in order to pick up the car and go back to the house to change before her shift started.

"Hey..." He brought the hand that had been resting on her knee to her face, stroking her cheek and down to her jaw, watching as her breath fluttered at her throat. "Why don't I go downstairs, you get changed up here, and then we can head off. We might even have time for a proper coffee once we get to work." He pressed a kiss onto her head, knowing that he shouldn't push her now but once Maria's case had been brought up at the meeting tomorrow, they would need to talk.

...

"Connie, slow down."

She had insisted on driving his car, and he wasn't prepared to fight with her. He wasn't prepared to risk any consequences. She looked up into the mirror, indicating right and switching lanes as she showed no sign of acknowledgement.

"We're not going to be late."

Again, his words made little impact. She seemed to be so focussed, but simultaneously nothing seemed to be registering with her. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what she was thinking about. She hadn't eaten much at Charlie's, when she had come down to the kitchen and Jacob had gone to use the bathroom, she had slipped most of the cereal into the bin. She felt sick, not hungry. Her eyes shut momentarily, and when they opened she struggled against the dizziness that wanted to force them rolling upwards.

"Connie, slow down..."

She swallowed, her head feeling lighter and her stomach feeling heavier as she indicated left, moving across lanes in the vague hope that other vehicles would bypass them, for she could barely make them out through the windscreen any more.

"Pull over." He spoke quietly, his hand resting over hers on the wheel as they slowed into the left most lane, and then stopped just short of a lay-by. "Connie, let go."

Her hands slipped from the wheel, and she inhaled as her vision turned, the pain in her head forcing out all coherent thought.

"I..." Her body slackened further, and she felt Jacob lean over to unclasp her seat belt and turn her to face him, his hands holding her forearms as her hair fell over her shoulders with the weight of her head.

"Ssh, just let it go. Let it happen, I've got you." A small shudder coursed through her body as he took her weight, his gaze reluctantly pulling from her to look about him, searching for a sign as to signal where they were. She was already beginning to come around as he registered a signpost about two metres from the car, her body shifting just slightly as she tried to pull away from him. She didn't speak when he didn't let her, turning himself so that he could reach right around her body to hold her against his front. He tucked his chin over her head, his own body numb with shock, yet he could feel a very distinct pain, the pain of being unable to deny that this hadn't been completely unpredictable.

He sat there with her like this for a minute, stroking her hair, before the jabbing of the gear stick in his side became too uncomfortable. He looked down, the top of her head still, so he gently eased her from him and ducked to see her face. The beautiful colouring of her irises was dulled and only a small crescent could be seen of them beneath the heavy hoods of her eyelids. She encouraged her eyes to open further when she caught onto his observing, meeting his searching gaze, but he wasn't fooled. He yanked on the handbrake then guided her back against the seat and squeezed her shoulder before he got out of the car, returning just seconds later at her side. When he opened the door next to her she jumped a little and he leant in across her to flick on the hazard lights.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he pressed his hand against her forehead then crouched on the road beside the open car door.

"Sick."

"Okay… Is there any other pai-" He cut his question short when she opened her eyes and lolled her head to look at him.

"I am fine, Jacob."

"Want to rephrase that, Doctor?"

"Exactly, I know if there's something wrong. There's no… uh, what is it?.. There aren't... irregularities."

His eyes lingered cautiously for a moment then decided not to whip her into a grumpy frenzy in her current state. "Can you get up?"

She held out her hand to him but he first helped her lift her legs out of the car and onto the tarmac. He slipped her heels off, receiving a tired glare from Her Highness, and then he took her hands and pulled her up, looping an arm around her waist.

"You okay?" he asked. With her nod he began walking slowly around the car to take her to the passenger side. "Easy does it," he muttered as she lowered herself into the seat. He placed her shoes at her feet in the footwell, reclined the chair slightly and then got into the driver's seat. "Right, you ready?"

"Yes," she replied, reaching to get her seatbelt and then passing it to him as he clipped it in.


	12. Chapter 12

For the first five minutes of the drive he kept calling to her as she drifted off, afraid that she was passing out again. But then he decided the best thing for her would be to get some rest, so he let her. But that didn't stop him from glancing at her every thirty seconds until he pulled up at her house. There was no way he was going to let her drive her car back now, they'd have to sort something out at a later time.

"Come on, Con," he whispered as he opened the passenger door.

A few seconds later she came round and suddenly turned her head to him. "Why… Why are we back here?" She asked frantically, reaching to unbuckle herself.

"Hey, calm down, Sweet Cheeks. You passed out, remember?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that. But it's no excuse to have a day off."

He closed his eyes, not at all surprised by this, then opened them to begin the inevitable battle. "I'm pretty sure it's a genuine reason to have a day off, it's not an excuse."

She looked at him, deadpan, then raised a challenging eyebrow. "Well, I can't afford to lose this day. I need to go in."

"I'll call Elle, she'll step in."

"No, I need to be there."

"Why? What's so important about being there? If you're lucky I'll let you work from your laptop in bed this afternoon."

"Right, Jacob, I am going in. I'm absolutely fine, there's nothing wrong with me," she said, her voice raising as she tried to shoo him away. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her in her seat.

"I'm not letting you get out until we reach an agreement. I know you, you'll sneak out."

"What a fantastic idea. I'll stay home, okay?" She replied sarcastically. He let out a sigh, placing his hands on his hips briefly before bending down. "No, wai- what are you- Jacob!"

He carried her up to the front door, bridal style, only putting her down so he could get her spare key, or his key as he preferred to think of it, out of his pocket. When the door was open he positioned his body so that the only way she could go was through the threshold. Once inside she reluctantly walked to the living room; her legs still trembling a little, but she was not about to let him notice that.

"First thing's first," he said as he reentered the room after retrieving a few things from the car and locking it. "Food."

"Alright," she agreed, thinking it easier to pacify him. She followed him through to the kitchen and found great relief in shuffling onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

He prepared her scrambled eggs on toast, hoping the protein would build up her strength. He sat with her whilst she ate, encouraging the next mouthful each time she sat back and put her fork down. They were quiet. He was anxious and attentive, not just to her eating but to deciphering her expressions and thoughts; she, sulking and trying hard to keep the food down. He'd noticed her pout and hated himself for being so incapable of denying her anything, even when her health was partially involved…

"Let's reach an agreement," he broached, before he sipped at his tea.

"We can try."

"I will let you go to work this afternoon as long as you promise to get checked over."

"I'm Clinical Lead, I'd know if there was something wron-"

"Uh, uh. Don't give me that. You passed out at the wheel, you're pushing yourself beyond the treatment of a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. It's out of hand."

"Jacob…" she warned.

"You, more than anyone, know the outcome of malnourishment and sleep deprivation."

She defensively pointed her finger at him. "No, no, I have been sleeping."

"Not enough, clearly."

"Look, I'm not doing this now."

He bit back any further words that wanted to roll off his tongue and composed himself. "Either you agree to get checked over and take it easy, or you're bed-bound all day, Missus."

She paused. After running through the options in her head she turned to him. "Why can't you?"

"Why can't I what?"

"Check me over. You're trained."

"Yes, but I don't have the means of carrying out a full examination. You know that."

Hmph. She'd hoped he'd take the bait and be done with this deal-making. "Fine."

"And no heels," he added. This caused her to shoot her gaze to him only to be left restraining a smile as he raised his eyebrows at her challengingly.

 _"Fine."_

"Okay!" he grinned, rather content with the deal they'd struck. "I will call in and tell them we'll be in this afternoon." Seeing her inhale of protest it was his turn to hold a finger up to hush her. " _This afternoon."_

...

"This is ridiculous. Jacob, I could be working."

He looked over to where she stood, her arms folded and the apron he had put onto the table in front of her still lying there, untouched.

"It's brownies, sweet cheeks."

"And this matters to me because?"

He finished weighing out flour, before placing the bag down on the kitchen surface and turning to her, aghast.

"Are you really going to make me come over there?"

"What? No, I-"

Before she had time to back away, he was wrestling the navy apron over her head, turning her around in his arms in order to tie her in. He only chuckled as her hands fought with his but he was too quick, and once he was done he pinned them behind her back as he bent his head over her shoulder, kissing from the side of her jaw down the curve of her neck. He then changed his hands so he held both of hers within one of his own, the other moving upwards to brush her hair over her shoulder. He pressed a gentle sequence of kisses from there to behind her ear, grinning as she instinctively rolled her head back against him. Eventually, he released her hands and traced his own down her sides to her waist, where they wrapped tightly about her and held her to him, his head still resting just over her left shoulder.

"What was that for?" She spoke softly, bringing her hands around from behind her to hold his forearms. He didn't respond, but pressed his lips to her neck once more before turning her around, pulling back slightly just to take in her appearance. As a smile edged it's way onto his face, she rolled her eyes and hit him lightly on his chest.

"Sorry. You're just...so..."

"Small, yes I know. Bedraggled. All made worse for being forced into this stupid pinny-"

She raised an eyebrow as he pressed a finger to her lips, shaking his head. It quirked further as he then took hold of her hands, bending his head to look down at their fingers intertwining, gently running his thumbs over her skin in silence. He knew without looking at her that her head was tilted, her eyes attempting to search his own whilst they were lowered, no doubt becoming increasingly impatient.

"You're so beautiful, Con."

"Jacob..."

"You're so beautiful, and I love you so, so much..." He raised his head now to look at her, and found that his breath caught, he couldn't help it. She mesmerised him. There was always something about her that struck him, but every so often she would look at him in a certain way, like she did now, and it would simply take his breath away. Of course, he had been right; her head was tilted and her eyes were wide and searching, but she was not impatient. She looked at him now, her eyes partly laughing, laughing at him and his confessions, but they also revealed to him a gratitude; stemmed from the quiet sadness that hadn't left her now for days. Her eyes revealed so much about her, every expression within her, and it was completely out of her control.

And so, being barely conscious of his decision to do so, he kissed her, releasing her fingers from within his and moving his hands to her face. He'd momentarily forgotten what had happened only an hour or so earlier, what had meant they were here now. As he kissed her, she froze, but only for a second until she felt his hands under her jaw and his body pressing to hers, driving her gently but determinedly backwards. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she was lifted, lifted onto the counter and settled with a practiced elegance. Her legs hooked low about his waist, yet despite her seemingly frantic mount, their kisses were quite the opposite; they became more languorous, more loving.

Her hands brushed the sides of his face before sliding downwards, coming to rest on his chest as eventually she pulled back to rest her forehead against his, smiling. She looked down at him, biting her lip before flicking her hair back into place and bringing her arms back around his neck.

"So, we're baking brownies, hm?"

"We're?"

"Mm." She pressed her lips back to his, smiling as she heard him groan.

"Oh, so now you want to?"

"Well, unless you can offer me a better way of wasting my morning, then..."

He shook his head, despite knowing all too well what she wanted.

"Off."

"What?"

"Get down, you're in the workspace."

"In the workspace?"

"Exactly."

Again, she raised an eyebrow.

"Jacob."

"Constance."

She tilted her head, indicating the fact that he was still pressed against the counter she sat on, his hands still around her.

"You need to move."


	13. Chapter 13

They made brownies, Jacob showing her once again how at home he was in the kitchen. It reminded her of their first morning together. The day when she'd awoken to him sleeping beside her in bed, each dignifiedly draped with sheets, although that had hardly seemed to matter at the time; they'd already explored the bare truths on each other's skin, both tasted slight desperation on their tongues. But he'd insisted on making her breakfast despite her superficial indifference and evident unease when greeting him that first morning.

And now they were in bed. Eating brownies. Well… _delicately_ grazing on them so as to not get chocolate on the ivory sheets. He discreetly paid close attention to what she consumed. Half a mug of tea and half a piece of brownie seemed like a reasonable start. After all, he'd only just finished his first square - and not a crumb in sight!

"Not bad, huh?" he declared, giving her shoulder a nudge. She smiled and picked up her mug from the bedside table.

"Not bad," she confirmed before taking a sip. "We need to leave in an hour or so."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well… by the time we get to the ED and I'm able to get checked over," she shot him a pointed glare for his suggestion of an appointment, "it'll be the afternoon and you said I could work."

"Hey, hey, hey!" he challenged, sitting up now to look at her. "I said we can go _in_ this afternoon."

"And?"

"That means you get checked over, _fully_ checked over, this afternoon. Not get it all done and start work as soon as the clock strikes twelve."

"You didn't specify that earlier. That's not part of the deal."

"It's what I meant."

"And if I said to you to put your head in the oven and you came away with third-degree burns, would you then be happy if I turned around and said that I'd _meant_ for the oven to be switched off?"

"First of all, that is completely implausible and incredibly dramatic. Secondly, I'm the one driving so that's the end of the debate."

He's pretty certain he heard a "humph" leave her mouth in resignation. He smirked and offered her another brownie but she shook her head.

"If that's the case then I'm going to have a shower."

He slipped an arm across her abdomen, gently forcing her to stay put.

"Have one later."

"Why can't I have one now?"

"So contrary," he commented lightly. "Get comfy and have a nap."

"But-"

"No buts. Take off your clothes, I'll put them in the wash along with Charlie's."

"If I'm stripping then I may as well have a shower."

"No, that'll just wake you up. You need rest. I'll wake you in plenty of time to have a shower before we leave, okay?"

"Fine. But you try anything like keep me in bed all day and there will be trouble!" She glanced over at him as she shuffled to the edge of the bed. She meant it lightheartedly but there was a certain tone ringing through in her voice that warned him off trying to get away with anything risky.

He busied himself with the washing of her clothes and baking utensils whilst she slept. It didn't take as long as he'd hoped, so he decided to check in on her; make sure she had stuck to her word about resting. As he approached their room there was silence, just the sound of his socks on the carpet. When he peeped around the door he half expected her to be doing yoga or applying makeup at the dresser, but she was propped up in bed, the duvet pulled up to her collarbone, a book resting on her lap with her thumb still marking the page, her head propped at an odd angle against the headboard and her shoulder. Sleeping. He softly padded over and slipped the book from her slackened grip, returning the bookmark between the pages, and deliberated over moving her to a comfier position but decided against it, not wanting to risk her waking.

It was nearing midday when he decided, to save his head, that he should try rousing her. If she shooed him off then he wouldn't argue, but he wanted to stick to his word, although a part of him wondered whether leaving her to sleep this late would result in the cold shoulder anyway. He went into the room and hesitantly perched on the edge of the bed beside her. He took one of her hands into his own and soothingly stroked his thumb over her knuckles.

"Con… Connie," he murmured gently. "Time to wake up, Sweet Cheeks."

She remained still for a moment before her head shifted slightly and a grimace spread across her face. She groaned as she gradually moved her head upright again and reached a hand to her neck.

"What time is it?" She croaked, opening her eyes and blinking against the light.

"Nearly twelve."

"You said you'd wake me," she said, her tone softer than her words.

"And I am. You needed the rest."

She pushed herself to sit up after slouching against the headboard and rolled her head to ease the jabbing ache in her neck.

"Here," he beckoned, his hand waving her closer. She leant forward as he shuffled further onto the bed and didn't protest as his thumb started to rub small circles into the base of her skull. "Next time, try being less stubborn and you may prevent getting a crick in your neck."

She rolled her eyes, fully aware that her attempt at staying awake by reading had royally failed.

Whilst she went for her shower he figured that he'd make things as easy as possible for himself and dug around in the bottom of her wardrobe to find her flats. He retrieved a pair of black pumps and left them in front of the dresser, hoping she'd comply a lot easier if she seemingly had no choice.

Sure enough, she came walking down the stairs in a white blouse tucked neatly into her high-waisted black trousers, the black pumps he'd selected adorning the outfit rather well. That's one less battle he needed to face now.

"It's far later than I'd planned," she commented as she stood waiting for him to tie his laces. She picked up Charlie's clothes from the bottom step, still warm from the dryer, and managed to tuck them into her bag.

"It's not a problem, you were resting."

"Mmm…"

She wasn't convinced.

But nevertheless she seemed reasonably content when leaving the house and clambering into his car. Sadly, the same could not be said when they arrived at the ED.

"Right, let's go and get you sorted," he said as he retrieved his satchel from the back seat.

"I don't need a check up, I'll just be wasting time and resources. Besides, I feel much better now."

"That's good, but not good enough. No backing out of a deal, remember?"

She said nothing in response, just continued walking beside him, her arms crossed and bag on her shoulder. When traipsing into the hospital nothing seemed any different. All appeared to be smoothly running and no one ogled her as she entered, she half expected news of her night out and fainting at the wheel to be the talk of Holby.

"Looks like Elle has been holding the fort well. See? Nothing to be worried about," he reassured. She grunted and followed a step behind as he walked through to the nurse's station. "Charlie!" He called out in greeting.

"Hello, you two. How's everything going?" He replied, smiling.

"Peachy," she drawled sarcastically, glancing around as she came to a stop beside them.

"Someone's a little resistant," Jacob commented. "I need a favour?"

Charlie looked between them, "What is it?"

"Can you examine Connie? Just a check up."

He hesitated, a little confused, but nodded. "Sure, may I ask why?"

"She can fill you in."

"' _She'_ is here, you know?" Connie added, earning a smirk from Charlie and a loving glance from her favourite Staff Nurse.

"I'm going to go and get ready for my shift, I'll see you in a bit," he leant in and kissed her cheek, receiving a gentle nod before he walked away.

"Right, let's go through to Cubicle Eight," Charlie instructed. "And you can fill me in."

She sat on the bed, her legs swinging off the side as Charlie prepared the syringe for a blood test.

"Did you hit your head when you fainted?" He asked her.

"No, it was just a minor blackout."

"We still need to get you checked over. Where exactly did you faint? Did you hit anything, collapse?"

She'd hoped he'd not pick up on the lack of detail she'd provided in her relay of the story. But evidently he had. "I was in the car, Jacob was with me."

"I'd hope so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would hope he was there, he should have been driving." The complete mask of guilt that washed over her face clearly said enough. "Ugh, don't tell me…" He trailed off, looking her straight in the eye. "You were driving? I'm not sure who to be most frustrated at. You for being so silly or Jacob for actually letting you."

"Yes, well, I didn't give him much choice."

"At least you're owning up to that… When did you last eat?"

"At home."

"What time?"

"I don't know… A few hours ago."

"What did you have?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions?"

"Don't give me that, you know how it works. We have to ask these things, it's procedure."

"Scrambled eggs on toast, and a brownie."

"And what about before that?"

"A bowl of Cornflakes at yours this morning."

"And how much did you really eat of it?" She didn't reply, like a child being caught out, she just stared at her shoes. "I'm assuming what I saw in the bin wasn't Jacob's, then?"

"I wasn't hungry."

He brought the needle to her arm, "You'll feel a slight scratch… So you fainted on the way back home?"

"Yes, I haven't picked up my car yet."

"Well at least you've eaten something substantial. Good on Jacob."

She looked up at him upon hearing his praise for her partner, only to be met with a knowing smile.

He finished getting the blood samples and checked obs, having hooked her up to the ECG when she'd first sat down.

"All seems okay. Keep looking after yourself and you'll be tickety-boo in no time."

"Thank you," she gazed gratefully up at him, no sarcasm or defensive attitude, just earnesty.

"No problem. You need anything, you know where I am."

"Speaking of which…" She brought her bag to her lap and retrieved his clothes and handed them to him. "Washed and dried, not ironed though I'm afraid." She continued rummaging. He chuckled and took them from her. "And here, to replace the one I used." She put a toothbrush, still in its packaging, on top of the pyjama bottoms and fleece in his hands.

"Oh, you didn't have to," he grinned.

"Least I can do." She smiled and gathered her things. "Am I free to go?"

"Indeed. I'll find you later when I get the results. I take it you're working?"

She nodded, knowing he'd prefer her not to be. "Thanks again."

She squeezed his forearm once she'd hopped down from the bed and pushed the privacy curtain aside as she exited the cubicle.


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey, you. In here."

Her head whipped around quickly on hearing Jacob's voice, and as she looked up to meet his eye, she felt him take her hand in his, leading her gently, yet determinedly, into a cubicle.

"Jacob, Charlie said that he would-"

"Yes, I know. But he was happy for me to do it instead." He then looked pointedly behind her, ignoring her eye roll as she sat down reluctantly on top of the bed, legs elegantly crossed and the loose folding of her arms demonstrating her classic air of impatience.

"Go on then." She looked directly at him, her head slightly tilted. She knew there was no medical issue here, and to an extent she believed that a part of him had known that too.

"Your results are all clear, but I just want to…" He had turned his head from her mid-sentence, reaching behind him to the trolley to search for a specific piece of equipment.

"Jacob, for goodness' sake-"

"Down."

Without turning his head, he reached a hand to press on her shoulder where she had already begun to stand. Her mouth opened, ready to retort, but instead she simply remained silently aghast. After a few seconds he came back to face her, bending so as to be at her level. She sighed as he brought the ophthalmoscope close to her right eye, his face inches from her own. Out of his own peripheral vision, he saw her jaw tense, the tell-tale sign of her gritting her teeth in an effort to bite back whatever cutting remark she had ready to direct at him. Soon enough, perhaps when she realised that he fully intended to see this through thoroughly and it wasn't just in order to playfully irritate her, she seemed to give in and relax. When he moved to her left eye, she flicked her gaze directly to him, looking at him through her right eye. She could hear him breathing, and the more she focused on that, the more the background noise of the department seemed to become muffled, until she was only aware of herself and him.

She was watching him with such an intensity, that he found himself diverting his gaze more than once from the task at hand. She was so beautiful. Her face was so close to his, he couldn't stop himself from glancing from her bright, green eyes to her lips and when she noticed this, she couldn't help but smile, a knowing smile that made his breath catch and his fingers slip a little as he gripped the instrument.

"You're fine." He said eventually, pulling back only slightly to lower the ophthalmoscope whilst still holding her gaze.

"Mm." She smiled slightly, her head still tilted towards him; challenging him. She knew she had him. She shifted slightly so that her hands were now propped up just behind her, as if to lever herself from the bed. He looked at her, almost sure of his next movements until something stopped him, and he pulled back further, twisting to return the instrument to the trolley before turning back and clasping his hands between his knees.

"You know…" He paused, looking up at her before sighing and sitting a little straighter. Slowly, he extended a hand to reach for that particular strand of hair, the sweeping curl that just brushed the curve of her cheek, his fingers trembling a little as he connected with her skin. "I know it isn't always the easiest, and I hope that there won't be a next time. But if there is… It doesn't have to be like this. When bad stuff happens, Connie… You aren't on your own." He looked at her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead when he saw the slight blush across her dash of freckles that always came before her tears. "I know that you know that I would… will… I will always do whatever I can to make you happy. To fix what you'll let me fix." He took her hands in his, passing his thumbs over her knuckles in an attempt to soothe her, to will away the rigid tension that came with her immediate defensive reaction to any sort of sensitive conversation.

"Don't, Jacob." She whispered, looking down at where their fingers intertwined.

"Connie-"

"I don't want to cry." She met his eye then, and a small, sad laugh escaped her when his raised eyebrow confirmed the presence of the tear working its way down the side of her face.

Suddenly his lips touched gently to the tip of her nose, and he smiled, with the knowledge of what was going to happen. One tilt of the head from both of them, and his lips were on hers, and all that mattered to her was that he was kissing her, they were kissing and she could feel him smiling; she saw him smiling still when he reluctantly pulled back to draw breath.

"Sorry." He whispered, using both of his thumbs to brush her cheekbones.

"You don't need to apologise for kissing me." She too spoke in a whisper, her face still close to his, the enormity of her feelings for this man momentarily holding her breathless.

"No?"

She shook her head, and he gave a small chuckle.

"Not even when we're both supposed to be on-"

His sentence was cut off when she kissed him again, her hands holding the sides of his face as his snuck under her jaw.

"Jacob, do you think maybe when you're quite _finished_ with your patient, you could get back out here?"

Charlie's voice was heard just outside of the cubicle; Connie's eyes quickly darting to watch as the shadows of his footprints disappeared from underneath the loosely pulled curtain. Jacob chuckled, turning her head back to his and capturing her lips once more.

"Off you go." She was the first to pull away, smiling, easing herself backwards on the bed as she made to stand, raking her fingers through her hair.

"Yes, boss." He too stood up, smiling at her before lowering his head a little as if to ask if she was certain, and after a quick quirk of an eyebrow from her, he nodded and left, leaving the curtain open for her to follow.


End file.
